


Brendan's pillow

by mezzo_cammin



Category: Dawson's Creek, Stargate Atlantis, Thoughtcrimes (2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mezzo_cammin/pseuds/mezzo_cammin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendan forgets to bring his pillow with him to San Francisco.  Luckily, Vincent is a very thoughtful boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brendan's pillow

Brendan sighed tiredly and motioned the bartender to bring him another Scotch, straight up. He had nursed the first one for what seemed like hours while he and Freya waited by opposite entrances of the upscale 'gay-friendly' bar in the Palace Hilton on Fisherman's Wharf. 

Their informant had been late, annoyingly so. By the time the elderly man had finally appeared, dapper, breathless, and oh, yes, by the way, batshit _insane_ , Brendan had been ready to put a fist through the tastefully decorated walls. Instead, he and Freya had listened politely to the man's 'eyewitness account' of seeing an alien spaceship land in the San Francisco Bay. Brendan had even taken meticulous notes, all the while seething inwardly. For _this_ he'd had to fly across the continent and waste an entire holiday weekend? For _this_ he'd had to leave a sex-drowsed Vincent, sprawled naked and warm in their bed, when Freya had called and told him they had to catch the next flight out to San Francisco? They'd had _plans_ for this weekend, damn it! New Year, new-life-together celebration plans. Great. Just fucking wonderful. Now, to top off the lovely day, his boyfriend wasn't answering his damn cell phone and some freak had been not-so-surreptitiously ogling him for the last half hour. 

Brendan raised his head to take a sip of his drink and glanced casually at the booth where the freak was now talking animatedly on his cell phone. The man (middle-aged, brown and blue, white shirt, dark jeans, brown loafers) was jittery, left hand doing some kind of twitching, finger-snapping thing, his voice pitched low and yet managing to carry a sarcastic inflection across the room. Having filed the man's appearance in his memory, Brendan turned his attention back to his own cell phone. He thought briefly of calling Freya to bitch some more about their boss sending them on wild goose chases, but she'd said she was going straight to bed. She'd looked pale, and Brendan had kissed her cheek gently and told her to get some rest. It hadn't been an easy day for her, either. Their return flight didn't leave until noon tomorrow, which would put him back home, hopefully, in time for a late supper. 

He was tempted to call Vincent again, only it wasn't like Vincent to not answer his cell, especially knowing how Brendan worried, which meant something _bad_ might have happened, and maybe he should be calling the hospitals instead. Just then, though, Brendan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. He looked quickly over at the booth, and sure enough, the guy was staring at something behind Brendan now, his expression one of wide-eyed, slack-jawed shock. Just as Brendan turned to follow the man's line of sight, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and warm breath on his neck. 

"Hiya, handsome. Mind if I buy you a drink?" The voice was a familiar sexy purr in his ear, and Brendan's heart flipped over in his chest, his hand jerking and sloshing his drink onto his fingers as he was swiveled the rest of the way around to face a smirking Vincent. 

"Hey, now," Vincent said, and raised Brendan's wet fingers to his mouth, sucking the fingers clean. "No need to waste perfectly good Scotch." Vincent crooked a wry grin and then leaned in for a kiss. A very soft, clinging, public kiss that had Brendan closing his eyes and putting his hands on Vincent's shoulders and pulling him closer. When Vincent finally pulled back, Brendan was halfway to hard and full on besotted, and didn't care if everyone in the bar knew it. 

"So - I take it you missed me?" Brendan quirked an eyebrow and tried to keep the smug out of his grin, but he couldn't help himself. After all, his boyfriend _had_ just flown almost three thousand miles to be with him. 

"Nah," Vincent raised one shoulder and cocked his head toward it, the very picture of nonchalance. "You - uh - you forgot something. Figured I'd bring it to you." He nudged Brendan's knees apart and moved closer, so that Brendan had to tilt his head back to see Vincent's face. 

"Yeah?" Brendan asked, his eyes riveted on Vincent's pouty lower lip. "What'd I forget?"

"Your pillow." Vincent drawled, and patted his own chest, right over his heart. 

"Well, " Brendan put his hand over Vincent's and threaded their fingers together. " _That_ was foolish of me." He pulled their joined hands toward his mouth and kissed Vincent's knuckles, letting his tongue slide over the fleshy pad at the base of Vincent's thumb and nipping it between his teeth. 

Vincent cleared his throat and let out a pent-up breath. "So. You ready to get out of here, secret agent man?"

"Oh, yeah," Brendan breathed. Keeping their hands entwined, Brendan slid from the bar stool and tugged Vincent behind him toward the entrance to the lobby. On their way, they had to pass by the twitchy guy in the booth, who was hastily lowering the cell phone he had been pointing at them, cheeks flushed a rosy red. Had he just taken their photo? Brendan gave a mental shrug. Freak. 

Brendan and Vincent had just made it to the door leading into the lobby when it swung open and a tall, attractive man with tired hazel eyes, cow-licked black hair, and an exasperated expression stood there and blocked their exit, scanning the room while he spoke quietly into his cell phone, "Okay, Rodney, I'm _here_. Now, what the hell was so important it couldn't wait until we - oh." His gaze slid back over to Brendan and Vincent as he flipped the cell phone shut and pocketed it. For a split second, they all glanced from one to the other and back again, gauging similarities and differences. 

Despite the man's casual slouch, Brendan recognized a threat assessment when he saw one performed. Seconds later, the man's body relaxed and a fond smile appeared on his face as he looked over Brendan's shoulder. Brendan turned and saw the guy who'd been watching him all evening slide out of the booth and raise a hand in greeting, an answering smile on his features and no twitch to be seen. 

"Sorry 'bout that." The man shrugged, but his gaze lingered on their clasped hands as he stepped back to let Brendan and Vincent pass. He looked… wistful, Brendan thought. 

Vincent, beyond an impatiently huffed breath, seemed totally oblivious to the byplay, intent as he was on getting Brendan into the first unoccupied elevator they came to. 

"God, Brendan, could you be any slower?" Vincent growled, and crowded Brendan back against the elevator wall, lowering his head to bite and lick at Brendan's throat, his hands making a beeline for Brendan's ass. 

"But - didn't you see him? Them? Oh, hell, never mind! " Brendan arched his head back and reached out blindly to press some buttons, not caring which, just wanting the door to fucking close before Vincent could get Brendan's belt unbuckled and his pants around his ankles. 

It was a near thing.


End file.
